


Save My Dreams for Another Day

by SusanTheHorseDW



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, Leliana just wants the inquisitor and josie to be happy, Light Angst, Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition Quest - Here Lies the Abyss, Racism, mentions of Racism towards elves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:48:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24687145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SusanTheHorseDW/pseuds/SusanTheHorseDW
Summary: After the events of Adamant, their leader falters. Leliana might not be able to fix everything, but she will help where she can.
Relationships: Female Inquisitor & Leliana (Dragon Age), Female Inquisitor/Josephine Montilyet, Female Lavellan/Josephine Montilyet, Leliana/Warden (mentioned), Male Cousland/Leliana (mentioned)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 47





	Save My Dreams for Another Day

Dorian was snoring.

It wasn’t the first time the mage had fallen asleep in the library and it certainly won’t be the last. He vehemently denied ever falling asleep there, and takes great offense in being told he snores. Leliana knew this from the horrified “I do _NOT_ ” she heard after the first time he did it, followed by the muffled laughter of the Inquisitor. 

He can deny it all he wants, but she knew what that sound was that was floating up to the top floor, and he was the only one to be in the library at such a late hour.

He hasn’t done it often, only when the Inquisitor visited him at night. Leliana highly suspected this was because Dorian didn’t feel comfortable enough to be that relaxed any other time. 

They have long discussions in the library quite often. Dorian seems to have formed an interesting friendship with the Dalish Inquisitor, both of them feeling out of place and in turn taking comfort in each other. They usually talked well into the night, long after everybody else had vacated the library, and even most of Leliana’s agents had retired. And then they would settle down, Dorian relaxing into a book until he nodded off and the Inquisitor working on whatever paperwork the advisors had loaded onto her. 

Leliana didn’t mind the snoring, not really, it made her chuckle if she was quite honest. The rookery was quiet at this time of night and she almost finds it as a comfort knowing she wasn’t the only one burning the midnight oil. Or at least trying to.

Eventually, the Inquisitor would rouse a grumbling Dorian, and then come pester Leliana to go to sleep. It never worked, but she appreciated the thought. However, she does not need to be doted on. She knows her limits and there was far too much to do and think on. 

After the results of Adamant she was...bothered. Was it The Divine? Truly? The Inquisitor could only give her so much, and while Cassandra had been there as well, she was dealing with her own conflict over the events, so Leliana left her alone. But her thoughts went in circles and it only left her frustrated and more exhausted than she cared to admit. 

At the sound of deliberately noisy steps she looked up, knowing it was the Inquisitor. Between Ashaia’s training as an assassin and her natural ability to be near silent as she moved, Leliana thought she would have been an excellent agent if she wasn’t already occupied. 

She appreciated the fact Ashaia made sure Leliana knew she was approaching, even if it was most likely because the first time the Inquisitor had approached her unannounced, Leliana had greeted her with a drawn knife. 

Still, the thoughtfulness was noted. 

The Spymaster took a good look at the Inquisitor as she crested the stairs. Leliana and Cassandra were clearly not the only ones bothered by the events in the fade. Ashaia had never had the greatest sleeping habits but since returning from Adamant the circles under her eyes had deepened. She held herself stiffly, her bun coming undone and hair falling into her eyes. The Inquisitor had begun skipping meals, and many of those closest to Ashaia had taken it upon themselves to bring her food. Despite such effort, her clothes fell loosely on her. They would need to get a tailor if she continued to lose weight, they could not have rumors spreading of her in a vulnerable state. 

Josephine had expressed her worry multiple times to Leliana, wearing a path into her rug as she frantically paced, saying that the Inquisitor brushed her off whenever she stated concern. The Ambassador would wake in the night to a vacant bed, and Ashaia would only finally reappear at the morning war table meeting. 

Leliana’s scouts reported that she more often than not roamed Skyhold at night restlessly, as silent and expressionless as a ghost. But she wasn’t about to tell Josephine that.

Lavellan was rattled, and it worried Leliana. The Spymaster knew that the weight on her shoulders would only get heavier as they waged their war against Corypheus. 

She will do everything in her power to make sure her leader does not bear that weight alone.

“Something I can help you with Inquisitor?” Leliana asked quietly as she looked back down at her reports.

“Not at the moment, thank you though,” replied Ashaia as she breezed past her.

 _Oh. Well that was odd._ No pestering her to retire for the night? How strange.

Leliana watched her as she settled on top of one of the plentiful hay bales they used for cage bedding scattered around the rookery. She stretched out on top, leaning back against the wall with her feet dangling over the side, and opened up a book, acting as if this was perfectly normal behavior for her. By the looks of the book, it was Orlesian. 

Well. If she wasn’t going to go about her usual antics, Leliana did not want to question it. But the strange behavior bothered her. The Spymaster frowned, she was not fond of unknown motives.

“May I ask what you are doing here, Inquisitor?” Leliana queried. 

Lavellan held up her book, “Reading.” She gave her a look as if to say it was obvious.

Leliana huffed. _So childish._ “Surely there are better places to read. Notably the library. Which is right below us.”

“Maybe so,” she replied, while making no move to leave.

“Inquisitor I--”

“Josephine has me reading poetry,” Lavellan interrupted her, looking grumpy about that fact.

“Oh?” Leliana was unsure of where this conversation would lead. However, she would like to figure out why the Inquisitor was lounging on a hay bale well past the hour one normally retires to their quarters. _Maker_ , Josephine was probably worrying this very moment.

Ashaia nods. “She says I need to be exposed to Orlesian culture and their arts and history, more than I was with my clan, if I am to survive conversations at The Winter Palace. She has me reading all sorts of absurd books. I had to read about _farming treaties_ , Leliana.” Her face screwed up in distaste. “I personally think I could benefit more with my time spent on practically anything else,” she muttered.

This was not the first time Leliana had heard this argument. “Inquisitor, she is not wrong. You will need to be at your best at The Winter Palace. She is only trying to keep you safe.” 

Ashaia’s face softened for a moment before it seemed to take on an even more disdainful look. “Well I think most of this so-called literature is completely ridiculous and if she was anybody else I would accuse her of trying to assimilate me into human culture. But this is Josephine, so she is not,” she said simply. She laughed to herself, “Not to mention that if I told her that her face would do that thing it does when I’m accidentally rude and then I’d feel bad and she would be upset which means you would toss me off the battlements.” 

Leliana choked back a startled laugh at that. Ashaia seems to have taken her threats to heart. _Good_.

“So what does she currently have you reading?” 

She has had friendly debates with Josephine on literature before, so she is genuinely curious as to what the Ambassador deems noteworthy. 

Lavellan glanced at the book title, clearly not having given it enough thought to have remembered it. “ _From Desire to Despair: An Anthology of Orlesian Love Poetry Classics._ ” The Inquisitor snorted derisively at the book. “It surely made me despair.”

Leliana knew of it. It was an older book, but it was actually quite good, despite what the Inquisitor said. It wasn’t what her first choice would be for the Inquisitor to read, however, Josephine might be going easy on Ashaia, even though she would never say so. Still, she will have to talk to Josie. It would not do the Inquisitor any good to be unprepared simply because the ambassador was smitten. 

“Come now Inquisitor, surely there must be one poem you found enjoyable. From the letters you write to her while away I know you are not adverse to such literature. Are you accusing Josie of bad taste?” Leliana jested, trying to get a rise out of her.

It got the desired effect. Ashaia’s face screwed up in annoyance, her hand clenching at the book momentarily. “You know that is not what I meant Leliana,” Lavellan snapped. “I am simply accusing the Orlesians of having bad taste, and Josephine unfortunately has to expose me to it. And could you at least _pretend_ you don’t read all of our letters?”

The Spymaster sighed. Lavellan had come to her, so why was she being so difficult? But she was here, and not with Josephine, Dorian, or Cassandra. No, there was a reason she came here, and Leliana was not going to ignore that fact.

“You did not answer my question, Inquisitor,” Leliana pressed. “It is poetry, it speaks to our hearts! It talks of shared desires and sorrows. You are in love, no?” Ashaia ducked her head in response, becoming more reserved as she always does when concerning her relationship with Josephine, but Leliana continued on as if she didn’t notice. “Can you not connect with the poets on such a profound experience?”

The Inquisitor was silent at that, fiddling with the loose binding of the book, seeming to think over her next words. _Ah._ So maybe she was closing in on the issue. 

After a moment, the Inquisitor straightened up, steeling herself as she always does when in an uncomfortable experience. “I am in love, yes, but I do not thank your Maker for such gifts, and I do not call on Andraste to guide me. You will not find me whispering quiet prayers under the roof of a chantry asking for enlightenment into the affairs of the heart.” She took a breath before continuing. “The poems speak of love, but they do not speak of _my_ love,” she said resolutely, hand on her chest, voice dripping in bitterness. 

“I...I see.” Leliana was rarely left feeling off kilter in a conversation. But she wasn’t expecting a heart to heart such as this with the Inquisitor. 

Lavellan opened her mouth and then hesitated, ruminating over her thoughts. Eventually she gingerly laid her hand on the book. “If this talks of the love of the century,” she began quietly, Leliana straining to hear. “If this is what Josephine says I should be studying, what love is supposed to be about, what she called some of the most romantic poetry to ever be written, is what I can offer not right for her? Is it...am I...not enough?” 

Ashaia sighed, and with it all the energy in her seemed to leave. She curled in on herself, her shoulders slumping. Leliana could really see in that moment just how _tired_ she was. The anchor cast a glow on her face that exaggerated the lines of exhaustion under her eyes, making her look sickly. 

The Spymaster silently got up from her chair, and walked carefully towards the Inquisitor, making sure she did not show any discomfort as she approached. She took a seat next to her, settling into the hay bales comfortably, but looked out over her crows, allowing Ashaia a moment to pull herself together. 

“You should not doubt yourself,” she assured after a moment. “You are more than worthy of Josephine’s love. You are the Inquisi--” 

“No!” Ashaia interrupted, fire suddenly in her eyes. She caught Leliana’s gaze and held it. “That means _nothing_ , Leliana. I am more than that cursed title, I am a person! I live and I breathe and I feel pain. That title does not define me so it certainly does not define my worth,” she snarled, angrily shaking her head, hands digging into her thighs. She gestured at her glowing hand, “This is not who I am. It does not excuse my flaws nor make up for my shortcomings. It does not automatically make me worthy of _her_.” Lavellan jerked her eyes away from Leliana, staring across the rookery, a scowl on her face. 

“Have I told you of Oliver, Ashaia?” she gently asked. She had refused the Inquisitor’s request to call her by her name before, arguing for the case of respect and propriety, but now she would ignore that in favor of Ashaia’s discomfort of her title. 

The Inquisitor glanced at her before looking away again, eyes wide at the change of subject. “Your Warden?”

Leliana chuckled to herself. “Yes, I suppose you could call him that. Although most people know him as the Hero of Ferelden.” She smiled thinking of him. “People saw him and saw this figure that they feared and respected. They saw the power he wielded.” She shook her head at that, shifting on the hay bale to look more at Ashaia, who was watching out of the corner of her eye. “They did not see his smile. They were not there to listen to his absolutely horrendous puns that he told every chance he got,” she groaned. And then softer, “The outside did not see him falter and they did not hold him when the nights got too hard. They did not earn the right to see him like that,” she said fiercely. “Nor did they want to. They did not want somebody with faults. But oh, I love every part of him, flaws and all.” 

She was openly smiling at this point, a rare sight she knew, but she would not hide the happiness her love brings her. Even now, after so many years of loving Oliver, he continued to set her heart aflutter. 

She suddenly felt too exposed, which was not right. She was doing this for Ashaia, who had given so much of herself to anybody that asked. Leliana should be able to do this. Still, she stood up and walked over to the railing to give herself some space, leaning her back against it. Lavellan turned towards her, watching with guarded interest. 

“They say I love the Hero of Ferelden, and they are not wrong, but that is secondary. I am in love with Oliver Cousland.” Leliana reached up to hold Oliver’s pendant, which she kept hidden under her clothes. He had given her the necklace before he left to find a cure, told her to keep it close to her heart while he couldn’t be. _We are never truly apart,_ she thinks. “I fell in love with him when he was just a boy in over his head. Lost but determined to do the right thing. I now love a man with no less determination but so much more confidence,” Leliana chuckled, letting her necklace fall back around her neck. “I loved him then and I love him now,” she declared with a soft look in her eyes. “Even as we have grown older, changed and hardened, our love has continued to strengthen.” 

Leliana paused, wanting to make sure the Inquisitor did not throw her walls back up when she turned it back on her. She was cross with herself for barrelling into the conversation the way she had, and she did not wish to repeat that mistake. 

“You are right Ashaia, you are more than that title. To the outside world, The Inquisitor is in a relationship with The Ambassador of the Inquisition. But the whole truth is that Josephine Montilyet is in love with Ashaia Lavellan. It does not matter to her what gods you worship because she cares for your _heart_ ,” Leliana said with conviction. “And listen to me very carefully. It is not that she ignores that you are Dalish. Do you understand? She loves you because of it.”

Immediately Lavellan tensed up, averting her eyes. “No Leliana you can’t--”

“No. Listen. You are not _listening_ ,” she stressed.

Leliana walked over with quick steps and crouched to eye level with her. She put a hand on her knee, grounding her. “Look at me Ashaia.” When the Inquisitor stubbornly avoided her gaze, Leliana gently tipped her chin up, making sure she was looking right at her. “Listen to me. She loves every part of you. It would be doing her an injustice to say that Josie can do anything without her whole heart, and that includes loving you. You can not tell me you have ever seen her do something with indifference.” Ashaia let out a tiny laugh at that. _Good_ , that was a start.

“Do you remember that day you yelled at us in the war room for asking you to be somebody you are not? To act human?” Lavellan hesitantly nodded her head, cringing at the memory. She had taken off on an expedition the next day, two days earlier than planned, and for the next month the advisors received the most clinical field reports since Lavellan had started writing them.

“She came to me that night,” Leliana continued, giving Lavellan’s knee a reassuring squeeze. “Asked if I had any sources for information on Dalish customs and beliefs since she realized all that she had read when you first became Herald was Chantry rhetoric. We sent out messages to every contact we could think of. She wanted to do everything she could in her power to make sure you knew that you were welcome, that we weren’t trying to force you to become somebody else. She was horrified, worried herself sick that we had pushed you too far, asked too much of you.” _Maybe they had_ , Leliana thought. _Maybe they still do_.

Ashaia shook her head vigorously at that. “No Leliana, that was before we had discussed our feelings. That is because she is a good person, because she is _kind_.” She leaned back, her head thumping against the wall with a defeated look on her face. “It is her job to be accommodating to everybody, Leliana.”

 _Fine then_ , Leliana thought. If the Inquisitor would continue to push back she would need to change tactics. She huffed. “You are ridiculous, that goes far beyond her normal accommodations of even the highest nobles. Do you think just because you had not discussed your feelings yet that she did not feel for you?” Leliana asked firmly, standing from where she still crouched, pulling the Inquisitor up with her. Ashaia took a step back from her, startled at the sudden motion. But Leliana simply linked arms with her again in a tight grip, effectively dragging her along as she started walking towards the stairs.

“Leliana! What are you doing?” Ashaia yelped.

She slowed and turned towards Ashaia. “It would seem that it does not matter what I say, when in truth you need to be talking this out with Josephine, not me.” She began walking again, long swift steps that had the Inquisitor’s shorter stance struggle to keep up as she was pulled along. 

“We can discuss how you will approach the subject of your troubles on our walk to your quarters, where I am quite sure a certain ambassador lies awake, worried for you.” The Inquisitor stumbled and had to catch herself on Leliana as she started down the stairs with Ashaia in tow. She could not help the small smile that pulled at the corners of her lips, she had never witnessed the Inquisitor with such a lack of grace.

“Wait, I-- no!” Ashaia tried to rip her arm out of Leliana’s grip, but the Spymaster held firm. If she was going to be difficult, then Leliana would too. She was confident that if the Inquisitor truly wished to escape, she easily could break the hold. Yet her methods of escape would not be enjoyable for Leliana, and Ashaia never caused undue pain if she could help it. 

“Leliana please,” Lavellan pleaded, dragging her feet in resistance as they reached the rotunda. “You don’t understand. I can’t..I can’t bear to see my pain reflected in her eyes. She has her own worries to deal with. She doesn’t deserve my worries piled on her too.” 

Leliana came to a halt, letting her grip fall while whipping around to face Lavellan, her frustration boiling over. “And wandering Skyhold at late hours while leaving her alone in your quarters does not cause her worry?” Leliana snapped. Ashaia jerked back in shock. “Do you truly believe that shutting her down at every attempt to talk about your experiences in Adamant has no effect on her?” Her irritation was palpable, and she clenched her fists tightly for a moment before letting the tension ease. “I do not know the true extent of what you saw in there, what fear you faced, and from what I can tell she does not either. But whether you voice your pain or not, she feels it. Your pain is her pain, Inquisitor.”

Ashaia turned away, shame on her face. “I...I saw myself. But I was... chained, undead, a human. I was what I am so afraid of becoming. The fearlings morphed when I stopped reacting to their current state. And each version was worse than the last.” She began to pace the rotunda, her steps loud in the otherwise empty room. “Those...those _things_ taunted me with all the thoughts and fears about myself and her that I had shoved aside in an attempt to not fall apart because, _fuck_ , the world is falling apart so I can’t. And _fenhendis_ , I shouldn’t have listened, I should be able to brush it off like everybody seems to have and move on, but I _can’t_ ,” she choked out. Tears rolled down her face and she furiously wiped at them.

In the official report of the events that occurred in the Fade, the Inquisitor had said the fearlings had taken the shape of spiders. Leliana hadn’t believed that of course, just as she hadn’t believed Cassandra’s claim of maggots. The advisors were all well aware that they were covering up whatever they actually encountered, but they had let it slide. While it was Leliana’s job to know secrets, she knew that some things were better left alone. But she had not expected for Lavellan's fear to have been that. 

“I don’t know how to tell her, Leliana,” Lavellan agonized, her voice filled with emotion. “I know that Josephine would never fault me for who I am, that she is better than that and I should never think such a thing. Yet I know what they say about me. I hear the rumors of the ‘peaceful savage’ when they think I’m not listening,” Ashaia sneered. “And I can live with that for the most part. Most of Thedas will only ever see me as a ‘knife-ear.’ But I can not keep ignoring the whispers of scandal and vulgarities that follow me wherever I go.” She anxiously ran her hand through her hair, dislodging her bun even more and exacerbating her already unkempt look. 

“They say that by being with me, Josephine is dishonoring her family. How can I ignore _that_ when we worked so hard to restore her family name. And you can not deny that there is truth to what they say! We have discussed what a relationship with an elf can do to a human. Look at Celene!” she hissed, cutting off any reassurances Leliana had on the tip of her tongue. Ashaia stopped pacing and brought her hands down heavily onto Solas’s desk, the bang echoing throughout the rotunda. “How can I ask that of her? How do I tell her _any_ of this?” Ashaia demanded, out of breath.

Leliana let the rotunda settle back into silence for a moment before she walked over, placing a hand on top of the Inquisitor’s shoulder. “You start by telling her exactly what you just told me. You are hurting and she is hurting as well. Waiting and avoiding her will only cause harm to both of you. In the end the only way you will work this out is if you _talk_.”

Ashaia’s head sagged, her eyes closed as she leaned on the desk. Leliana watched her in silence, not going to interrupt whatever she was contemplating. Instead she simply stood there, offering her quiet support. 

Eventually the Inquisitor stood up from where she was leaning, grim determination plastered on her face.

“Okay” she muttered, nodding her head. “You are right, I will talk to her.” She was flexing her hands, a nervous tic Leliana had picked up on.

“Good,” she nodded her assent. “Would you like me to walk you to your quarters?” 

Ashaia gave a nervous laugh. “Don’t trust me to follow through, Nightingale?”

Leliana smirked. “No,” she said bluntly, and then started walking towards the door without looking to see if Lavellan was following. She heard a sound of indignation, but footsteps caught up to her.

They walked the short distance in silence, but she could feel the tension rolling off of the Inquisitor. 

The night guard that stood by the staircase’s door gave them an odd look but let them pass, knowing better than to ask. She could feel the exhaustion in her bones as she climbed the stairs. She did not envy the Inquisitor having to make this climb every night, it must be tedious and tiring after long days.

As they neared the top Ashaia slowed, turning to face her. “Thank you for your words, Leliana. You offered me far more patience than I suspect I deserved.” She fiddled idly with her sleeve, looking away for a moment, but her words were filled with gratitude. “And thank you for telling me of Oliver. I hope one day soon he returns to you and I get to meet him.” They shared a smile, Ashaia’s tentative and Leliana’s filled with soft warmth at the thought of Oliver returning.

“Of course, Inquisitor. You are not alone in your endeavours. Do not forget that. And while I do not encourage you to avoid Josephine,” she said sharply, before softening her voice. “You are welcome to talk again if you need it. You know where to find me, and my space is yours.”

Ashaia looked like she wanted to say more, but Leliana shook her head. “Do not keep Josephine waiting. Good night, Inquisitor.” And with that, she gave her a light shove through the door and yanked it shut, muffling the startled yelp. 

It would not fix everything. The Inquisitor was plagued by many problems, and not all could be fixed by talking them out. But talking with Josephine would lighten the weight on her shoulders. She deserved that. They both did.

**Author's Note:**

> First fic ayeeeee. Y'all ever think about Leliana watching her closest friend fall in love with a hero, a path she also took? No? Well I think about it all the time. You can find Ashaia over on my [tumblr](https://josieofantiva.tumblr.com/post/620704681867476992)


End file.
